I learned a lot, even about Shostakovich – who I really only know about because of his? my? association with Rostropovich, the cellist. Which is probably filed away somewhere in YouTube’s monitoring of my habits. It was funny; she had her prepared remarks, and he would periodically say something that didn’t quite line up with what she had said, and then there would be a sort of shuffle to get back on track. It’s really fun to listen to people who Know Stuff.

And if an hour of talking about a 20th C. composer doesn’t do it for you, there are Other Free Lectures, here:

Gresham College

Otherwise, it’s hot – but not as hot as other places, and windy, red flag fire warnings. (I should maybe pack a bag.)

The new shiboleth! Mask-wearing. We went to a local farm supply place. We wore masks. A remarkable amount of stuffiness and cold-shouldering and possible checking us out to see if we were shoplifting. Weird, what sets people off. I’m glad I didn’t have a big purse with me. I’ll think twice about going back there. It’s not like I went there a lot anyway.

I’ve been listening to this guy talk about phonetic shifts for about 24 hours now. He’s actually an anthropologist (side note oh hey look he’s studying cultural transmission! which is where I’m at in my reading these days – more later), and here he has his paper hat (my witty euphemism for degree haha) on, but basically no, you’re thinking as if this was the goal but really it was . . . incidental. And we’re maybe not done yet. Hopefully.

I was writing stuff, but it was all LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME LOOK AT ME NOW! So look at the cat instead. I think she is content with her current position as the squeaky wheel getting “her” bed made for her the way she likes every morning, after all the other things she has to have her way are taken care of.

I changed my morning habits. I am inspecting all my habits. It’s an odd thing. It’s called “self-care,” I believe. Being home for a year was good for me.

Have an odd little mechanical thing. It’s not done, but I think it shoots bad thoughts over the fence. You might have to implant them into potatoes first, and then watch out for neighbors and their windows.

I’m willing to bet I seem obsessive, a bit. I don’t know which one I like best. Today I’m leaning towards the top one; last night it was the second. There’s a few other variants that I like a lot. And yes I know one is the other way around. Most of them are right-side-up with the three thin trees on the left, but on the second one that un-re-inked bit changed the balance.

“It has stood the test of time’: was 1971 the greatest year in music?”

“The vast purview of their chosen year – John Lennon moving to New York, the Stones shacking up in the south of France, the Concert for Bangladesh, Joni Mitchell releasing Blue, the list of key events seems to go on forever…”

I graduated from high school that year. I dunno, maybe a boomer thing, maybe not.

Listening to (even though it’s from 1972)

Telling my daughter that I’m going to get a good set of speakers and expose her to some shit. I think it’s justified.

In irrelevant stuff –

I started doing morning pages.

I am slowly working out what I want to track in my planner (although it won’t be a BuJo more than likely).

I was babbling to Daughter about something yesterday on the way to the grocery store which is second to the last resort when I went over the stupid stupid stupid curb thing that exists in the parking lot for no reason except to freak people out when they scrape the bejeebers out of the bottom of their car on it. When she came out of the store (carrying those donuts? the ones that cause instant high-fructose-corn-syrup? I wrecked my car for this???) I mentioned executive function fatigue, and that I was exhausted. I mowed 2/3 of the lawn today. We’ll see what happens next.

I got into a lengthy discussion with a random stranger about books on the Medieval period, and then a shorter discussion with somebody about Persia being the birthplace of the West until Islam and how Omar Khayyam something something because something. You know, I know I don’t know the truth about a lot of things, but I have doubts about a lot of that and really, his main concern was that I would be turned against all things Anglo-Saxon if I read the suggested books. I did thank him for his concern.

I’m waiting for the books to arrive (support your local independent bookstore), and playing more with linoleum blocks, and thinking I need to set goals so that I know I’m moving forward as opposed to living in that rift from Star Trek where Picard has to ride horseback to where Kirk has been living since retirement with his beautiful wife that we never see, except Kirk is not dead? but caught in some Rupture Of The Time-Space Continuum.

Or something. A lot of ‘or somethings’ in my life today. I’d better write that in my planner.

Playing with pano-vision on my phone;

I’m all excited, and then I realize that it’s the same sort of image – vertical and horizontal lines – as the dandelion clock below.

My shoes are pretty interesting, too.

It occasionally even tells the time.

Tom Jones. Yes. That Tom Jones.

A new-to-me word explaining things, from a piece in WaPo:

“QAnon resembles the games I design. But for believers, there is no winning.”

I truly suck at pulling out quotations, so I ask you to believe me that this is a good article. The author designs ARG’s (artificial reality games) and discusses how the Qanon phenomenon looks like one of his games.

I feel for a lot of the January 6th people, because they were dumb and gullible and trusting, which is an odd adjective to use for people who normally walk around with semi-automatic guns because there are bad guys everywhere, but there it is.

One of the deep rabbit holes I fall into (probably tumblr) had a tiny graphic story; the good guy killed one of the bad guy’s minions, and the bad guy was lamenting, “oh no you killed Fred! What am I going to tell his wife? How will his kids get by?” The good guy was all “whut? and the bad guy was all “he worked for me for years, I introduced him to his wife, I know these guys they’re not just ciphers they’re people!”

I feel like that here and now. This falls into the broader category of prison reform, in that the majority of people are not pure evil, or pure innocence. But some sort of rehabilitation is necessary.

On a related note, you should also read “Frankenstein in Baghdad,” by Ahmed Saadawi. Because beliefs/depictions of reality, innocence/guilt, all the things.